Secrets, Secrets
by Sovereign
Summary: Malfoy and Hermione have found love...in each other. But can they overcome the prejudice of the pure bloods? Rated R for language and sexual content.
1. Prolouge

**Ah, yes, my beloved pairing of Malfoy and Hermione…(beams proudly). This is set in their seventh year as if the events of _The Half-Blood Prince_** **have not/did not happen, and a romance is able to blossom…Read on, and please review. And if you don't like the pairing, then don't read the story, ne? Okay, on with _Secrets, Secrets!_**

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"Mmm, that was the best yet."

Hermione Granger rolled onto her side, so that she was facing the boy who was in bed with her. Beneath the silken covers, she felt his arms wrap around her waist, sending shivers up her spine. She closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure, feeling his lips brush against her own.

"I agree. You're…amazing," Draco Malfoy said gently.

Hermione relinquished his strong arms (who knew Quidditch could build such muscle?) and sat up, the blankets sticking to her sweaty skin. She felt him also stir behind her. "Mione," he murmured, using his pet name for her. "Do you have to go already?"

The petite, toffee-haired girl was already rolling her stockings up her long, slender legs. As she slipped on her pleated skirt, she tried to reason with the handsome boy. "I've got Ancient Runes soon---"

"Forgetting something?" Draco asked, brandishing a pair of lacy panties. Hermione flushed a attractive shade of pink and lunged for her lingerie, but the Slytherien held it out of reach. As she moved closer to him, he suddenly tossed the panties aside and grabbed the girl's shoulders, pushing her back to the bed. "How much longer til' your class?" he said softly, his mouth by her ear. "Th-thirty minutes," Hermione gasped, feeling his hands travel beneath her skirt. "Oh, _Draco_!"

Within moments, Ancient Runes was the last thing on Hermione's mind.

* * *

It all started at the beginning of their sixth year. Draco, the epitome of nobility and pride, found it befitting that he socialized with his fellow purebloods…Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, and Pansy Parkinson, to name a few. But when Pansy began to fondle him continuously like a cat to her kitten, Draco began to resent being in the girl's company. Finally, a few months after the sixth year began, he broke it off with Pansy, who took it with spite. Without the unsightly Slytherien girl hanging over him all the time, he could now sample some of the other women…or so he thought. He soon discovered that the selection of pure blood girls (especially ones with redeeming features) was very slim at Hogwarts. Feeling alone amongst the torrent of love and dating that was so common with the sixth and seventh years, Malfoy actually began to notice other girls, even the one whom he considered was not even worthy to be in his presence: Hermione Granger. 

At first, she only caught his eye during lessons, when she would astonish the teachers with her constant displays of superior knowledge. _Filthy know-it-all Mudblood,_ he thought to himself. But, he began to become aware of other things about her: the way her thick brown locks caught the light like a prism, the smiles that lit up her face when she answered a question correctly, her visible cleavage whenever she leaned over her Potions cauldron. Malfoy scorned himself for thinking such things about a Mudblood, but the musings filled his head subconsciously.

Then, near the end of the year, as they were receiving Potions ingredients from Professor Slughorn, they both reached for the same dragonfly. As their hands brushed, a jolt seemed to pass through Malfoy's body. When he looked up into her hazel eyes, a further electric charged sparked within him and his mind seemed to become filled with a raging fire. Then, Hermione drew her hand back with a whisper. "Oh, sorry."

From that point on, all Malfoy could think about was the Mudblood girl. Of course, such thoughts had to be kept private; if one of his Slytherien friends found out, he was be ridiculed and ashamed, possibly even exiled from the pureblooded crowd. It was a personal hell, keeping such feelings to himself. Hermione Granger found her way into his dreams, tempting him, making him want her so badly he felt like he was going to die from desire.

Summer came and went, and Malfoy and Hermione returned to school for their final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. This is their story: a story of lust, secrets, and a love that was never meant to be, but found its way into the hearts of two naïve young students who would've given anything for their love to be accepted by the people whom they called "friends and family."

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Next chapter will be up soon, I promise! Did you like it so far? Please drop off a review!**


	2. Just Wanted To Say Thanks

The library was a sanctuary for her; it's high walls lined with rows and rows of bookshelves separated her from the outside world. That was why Hermione frequented it so often, much to her friends' ridicule. This morning, for instance, she had told them she was going to make a quick trip to the library before classes started. "Hermione," Ron said with a roll of the eyes. "It's our second day back, for God's sake." But no matter. Here she was, tucked into an armchair deep within the vast chambers, fervently reading a book entitled _Animagi: The Tutorial for the Wizarding Shape-shifter_ by Papagallos Venniforma.

So enthralled was she by the manuscript, she gave a start when the tall clock on the north wall let out nine booming chimes. _Oh, no! _she thought to herself. _I'll be late for Transfiguration! _Scooping up her book bag, she returned _Animagi_ to it's shelf and sprinted from the library, running down the second floor corridor as fast as she could. As she passed by a statue of a decrepit-looking old witch, her bag caught on the statue's arm and ripped right down the seams. "Bloody hell," she muttered, letting a rare curse escape from her lips. With a wave of her wand, her supplies returned to the leather case, but not before she noticed that her Transfiguration spellbook was missing. "Shit, I must have left it in the library," she groaned in exasperation. She flung her bag over her shoulder and stood up, and hurried back---

"Hey, Granger, what are you missing?"

The cold voice pierced through her like a bullet. Turning around slowly, she saw Draco Malfoy standing at the far end of the corridor, a smirk upon his fine-featured face. "It's not your business," she scowled. She strode towards the library, but she heard footsteps behind her. "What class are you going to?" he asked.

"Transfiguration. I left my book in the library, and I'm going back to get it, thank you. You can go now. I don't need your help." _As if you'd give it to me anyway._

Malfoy stopped in his tracks, feeling a slight tingle in his chest. The Mudblood girl…

"You can use my book," he said, bowing his head in a sense of shame.

"What?"

"My book. You can use it. I've got Defense Against the Dark Arts now anyways. Just make sure you get it back to me."

Hermione turned around again, one eyebrow arched in wonder. After a moment of brief silence, she said, "You're serious?"

"Yes, I am." He rummaged through his bookbag and held out a mint copy of _The Advanced Guide to Transfiguration. _"Just don't mention it to anyone. If you do…"

Hermione warily took the book from his hands. "Thank you. After class I'll leave it behind the statue of Gunhilda of Goorsemoor on the third floor."

"Erm…"

They stared at each other for a few moments, completely on their own in the vast corridor. At last, Malfoy spoke. "Well, hurry along then. You don't want to be late."

Hermione nodded, and rushed past him. She descended the Grand Staircase and entered the Transfiguration classroom just as the bell rang. Without even looking to see who was late, Professor McGonnagal barked, "Take your seat, Miss Granger."

The girl did as she was told. McGonnagal continued writing on the blackboard and Hermione took the opportunity to look through the book. It was unmarked except for the inside front cover, which read:

_Draco Malfoy, Seventh Year._

Why had he been all alone? Usually he was flocked by his two thugs Crabbe and Goyle, but he was just standing there, all solitary and tall and muscular…God! What was she thinking! That was Malfoy. Malfoy. The boy who called her "Mdblood." The boy who scorned her to know extent. But, back in the corridor, he had been…civil. Almost kind to her.

What the hell was going on?

* * *

That night at dinner, Malfoy, squished between the hulking figures of Crabbe and Goyle, couldn't keep his eyes off the Mudblood girl. From across the room, she stood out, her toffee locks bouncing around her glowing face. When she laughed at Potter's jokes, Malfoy felt a furious pang of jealousy. But then he wondered why. _It's just a filthy Mudblood,_ he told himself resolutely for the millionth time.

_Yeah, a filthy Mudblood who has perfect breasts and---_

Malfoy slammed his fist on the table, sending his goblet of pumpkin juice into the air. The liquid spilled out, but with a wave of his wand, it flew back in. The Slythereins sitting around him gaped, and he saw Zabini mutter something to Nott. "Well, there was a dirty bug on the table," Malfoy explained with a haughty tone. That seemed good enough for his classmates, the odd looks disappeared and they continued chatting. Malfoy, however, got up from his seat. Crabbe and Goyle meant to rise, but their leader stopped them. "I'm going back to the common room. By myself."

He strode out of the Great Hall, passing the Gryfinndor table on the way. As he did, he glanced at Granger, who also looked at him. For the second time, a volt of electricity seemed to pass through both of them. Hermione watched him as he whipped around the doors. Then, she too rose. "I'm going to the library," she said decisively. "You guys can stay here."

"Reewy, 'My-nee," Ron said between mouthfuls of food. "Don't mine if I dwo."

The girl rolled her eyes and walked out of the Hall, pausing only briefly to see where Malfoy had gone. She saw a pale blond head disappear from sight on the stairs to the dungeons, so she followed. Down the stairs, and through a door. However, the dungeon corridor was empty. With a sigh, she turned back around, only to give a start.

Draco was lurking in the corner behind the door, a brash smile on his face. "So Granger," he said, stepping out of the shadows. "You followed me."

"I just wanted to say thanks."

"Well, you can thank me right now."

Hermione took a tentative step back.

"Malfoy, I---"

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Cliffies, cliffies, they're so fun**

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